


Love and Rejection

by LadyNW8ing



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24591169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNW8ing/pseuds/LadyNW8ing
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles, short stories, and ficlets for Mystic Messenger.
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel/Reader
Kudos: 22





	1. Rejection

"I'm sorry for barging in on your space. I'll just stay in the corner, so don't mind me," Seven says, setting some complicated equipment up in said corner.

It's now nine o'clock in the evening, a mere two hours after Seven's timely arrival. His brother, whom you now know to be Username "Unknown", broke the glass in the bedroom in his attempt to kidnap you along with the information kept in the apartment. In a genius move, Seven was able to disable the secret security system and enter just in time to see Saeran holding a knife to your throat.

Seven's expression had been one of mingled shock and horror. It was a look that you know you will never forget.

"I'm not uncomfortable at all," you reassure him. "Just make yourself at home."

Even now, just looking at him sitting huddled in the corner with his equipment, your heart pounds in your chest. It's amazing that he doesn't hear it, even from across the room.

"I feel better this way. I'll just work here. I'll stabilize the security system, and once I finish researching about that Magenta Saeran is at, I'll head there straight away. I didn't want to be alone with you like this, but I guess the intruder left us no choice." Seven's tone is impersonal, almost robotic.

Regardless of the emotional wall between the two of you, sitting heavily in the room like a giant elephant, his presence is still reassuring. Seven had done all in his power to protect you from his own brother. He had left his home and the agency as soon as he had realized the danger you were in, calling often until he had arrived, to reassure himself that you were fine. At first, the worry in his voice had been frightening: what was so bad that even _Seven_ was worried? Now, it's comforting to know how willing he is to put himself in danger to ensure your safety.

"Still, you're more reliable than a CCTV."

"That's true," Seven answers, and his voice trails off lifelessly. "But don't feel too safe about me. I don't have a good reputation. It might be more dangerous that I'm here. My agency will track down this place and take me away. So you really have to take care of yourself."

"The agency..." Your own thought trails off as you suddenly realize the very real danger Seven has placed himself in simply to race to Rika's apartment. You're grateful to him for doing so; if he had not, you would currently be in the custody of Magenta or dead. Nevertheless, your brows draw together, the corners of your lips turning down into a worried frown. "Are you really okay with them? Are you being chased?"

"A little bit," Seven answers evasively. "But I'm the only one who knows the address of this place, so it'll take them a long time to find me here. I left my car someplace far because of that. If I finish my work before I get tracked, I plan to disappear from the face of this earth. Unless something happens, you'll be safe." Seven pauses for a moment to reach behind the laptop to plug something in. "Anyways, my point is that I'm a dangerous person. So I'll leave as soon as I can. Don't try to get so close to me."

As giddy as you are that Seven is here, in Rika's apartment with you, your fluttering heart feels as though it plummets somewhere to the region of your stomach with disappointment. "But," your voice is hesitant, uncertain. "You'll be uncomfortable in that corner."

"I told you before, but this suits me better. If you have a sharpie, I'm all for drawing a line on the ground."

"Don't you have anything you want to tell me... about your brother?" you push gently.

"That's nothing for you to know. It was a mistake telling you about him. Just forget that I even mentioned it. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but there's nothing I can tell you right now. Just don't ask me anything. Maybe you should just pretend I'm not here." Just like that, Seven has completely shut you out.

The Seven before you right now and the Seven in the chatroom seem to be two completely different people. In the chatroom, he has always been cheerful, playful, always joking. Even, sometimes, flirting with you. In person, he's much colder and distant, almost as though he is afraid of opening up. _For your safety_ , as you're sure he would say.

"Are you really going to be like this to me?" you ask desperately.

Seven sighs heavily, and finally, he turns to look at you. Golden eyes meet yours, and it is like an arrow shoots straight through your heart. "The reason why I hurried over here was to protect you." Seven's words are slow, carefully enunciated to ensure that there is no further misunderstanding between you. "I have no plans to pursue any sort of personal relationship with you, so know it as that. I'm sorry if you had any fantasies about me. This is who I am, so just accept it. Don't try to get too close me." He pauses in his speech, studying your features carefully. When you don't answer, struck speechless by his pronouncement, he speaks again. "I'm going to start working now, so don't bother me."

The red-haired secret agent turns around once more, hunched over his computer in the corner, headphones over his ears. All you can do is stare at his back, your hurting heart in your eyes as you struggle to process his words.


	2. Hope

You had been doing whatever you could to occupy yourself: changing into pajamas in the bathroom, cleaning up the takeout for dinner that you had, and gathering up the laundry. You thought Seven had forgotten that you were there, but as you neared the pile of clothes he left on the bathroom floor after his shower, he had turned around like a shot.  
  
"Leave them," he had said, looking at you over the rim of his glasses. "Don't worry about the laundry. I'll get it before I go to bed. My-- my -- things are in that pile. I'll take care of it." A faint flush had begun to steal into his cheeks, his golden eyes averted in embarrassment, and you look back at him in understanding. He meant his _underwear_.  
  
"But you're busy," you had protested, amused. "It's fine. I can get it for you. No biggie."  
  
"I said not to worry about it." An edge of irritation had begun to creep into his voice then. "I'll get it. Just go to bed, or read a book, or something. Anything."  
  
Obediently, you had abandoned your determination to help Seven as he worked, leaving the pile of dirty clothes on the bathroom floor.  
  
Now he is turned to his laptop, sitting hunched over on the floor, typing away as the soft sound of music drifts from his signature bright orange headphones. Completely ignoring you. You glance at Seven from the corner of your eyes, sitting cross-legged on the bed in Rika's studio apartment. A sly smile begins to inch its way across your face as your hand comes to rest on your phone.  
  
Opening the RFA messenger app that Seven had created, and had so conveniently remotely programmed for you to be able to call the other members when the need arose, a few taps of the touchscreen and the phone was ringing. You stare at his back once more, waiting, heart pounding in your chest from nerves or excitement, you're not quite sure which. A few seconds later Seven's cell phone begins to ring as well. He glances at the screen before answering.  
  
"What is it?" he asks without preamble. "Why did you call?"  
  
"It's just," you begin, hesitant. His tone of voice is emotionless, and all you can see is his back. It's impossible to tell what kind of mood he is in. If he were at home, he would have taken your call gladly, prattling on about anything that may come to his mind. Phone calls are always random when Seven is involved, and this is your last-ditch effort to reach out to the man you are becoming so smitten with. The simple fact that he even picked up the phone when he saw your name is at least a favorable sign.  
  
Drawing courage from that small encouragement, you plunge on. "It's just... You're not looking at me... I thought we could at least talk over the phone."  
  
"What are you talking about...?" This time, Seven is truly puzzled, and he glances over his shoulder at you. Your gazes lock. Seven's eyes widen before he hastily turns right back around. "You know I'm working. You don't want to be in danger forever, do you? And those clothes... I mean. Never mind."  
  
Now your interest is piqued. You glance down at yourself, taking in the tank top and shorts that you changed into. They're not even a revealing set of pajamas, but only something old that's comfortable. There's nothing at all suggestive about them. "What about my clothes?"  
  
"Aren't you cold? You should dress warmer. No, never mind. It's none of my business." He pauses for a moment, but before you can respond, he continues. "I know you're uncomfortable with me suddenly coming here. I'll try to solve this as fast as I can and go back, so please just hang in there. From this moment, I'm just going to stare at the wall and work, so don't call me and don't talk to me. I need to focus."  
  
A small sigh escapes your lips. As though he can feel your hurt radiating from you and into the air, he says, "But don't disappear from me just because of that. I can sense you moving so just stay still there. You can read if you're bored. And..." Seven's voice trails off momentarily, and he involuntarily glances back at you once more before turning around again. "Wear a jacket or something. And don't skip your meals just because I am. Okay?"  
  
In spite of the rejection, you can feel hope blossoming inside you once more. If he were truly uninterested, he wouldn't be so flustered at the sight of you in your pajamas, right? He wouldn't be concerned about whether you are eating enough. Right? "Okay," you agree.  
  
"Then I'm going back to work."  
  
He hangs up, though you can swear that you can see the hint of a small smile as he glances at you one last time before returning to his laptop.


	3. Threats

"Hello? Why would you call me when you are right behind me? Now I hear your voice twice and my heart..." Seven cuts himself off abruptly, before saying something he knows he will regret later.  
  
"Your heart what?" you prompt curiously, looking at his back.  
  
"Ah, never mind. I'm gonna work now."  
  
"Then I want to sit beside you."  
  
Although you cannot see his face, you can clearly imagine the look of irritation that is sure to have crossed his face at your admission. "You're gonna get curious and ask everything I'm doing then. How can I not get distracted? Stop messing around and hang up. I need to take care of this as fast as I can for the both of us so I need to focus."  
  
Not to be deterred, you offer, "Why don't you get a snack and take a short break?" The poor guy has been holed away in that corner ever since he had arrived and settled there. He's been diligently working, not even taking the time to make small talk. And, though you will never admit it to him right now, you're craving some of his attention.  
  
"No, I don't want to eat. I don't want to waste my time. Can't you eat on your own?"  
  
You groan. "I don't wanna eat on my own; you're right there. Come on~ Just a short break!"  
  
"Stop whining beside me. God... What am I supposed to do?" Seven falls silent for a moment, thinking the predicament through, torn between wanting to get work finished and wanting to make you go away and leave him alone. The next moment, a deep, guttural growl reaches your ears. "Rawrrrr! I'm going to bite you if you keep interrupting me."  
  
In spite of yourself, a surprised giggle escapes, sensing that you've won. "Woof woof~" you bark in return.  
  
Seven turns his head so that he can see you from over his shoulder, his expression puzzled, not quite sure how to figure you out. "I said I'd bite you. Come here."  
  
As he scoots around to face you more fully, alarm shoots across your face. Seven doesn't bluff, and he's dead serious about his threat to bite you. With a squeal, you're up off the bed like a bullet, darting away from him with the phone still held to your ear.  
  
"What? You're running away now? Wait!"  
  
The phone line goes dead as Seven hurriedly drops his phone to the floor, scrambling off the floor to chase after you.


	4. Regret

You sigh as you give Jumin your excuse and log out of the RFA messenger. You feel bad leaving Jumin just after he is told what the secret security system is, but unfortunately, there is no choice. Seven so very graciously requests your presence.  
  
As you pocket your phone and walk into the main living space of Rika's apartment, Seven looks up at you with a troubled expression. "Jumin keeps calling me..."  
  
"I don't know what you did to break this glass," Mr. Kim, the landlord, interrupts, "but be careful from now on. I've never seen anything like this before."  
  
"Of course." Seven pulls out a wallet and counts out the remaining cost of the repairs, having already given the landlord the down payment and the cost of the replacement glass. "Here's cash."  
  
"Do you want a receipt?"  
  
"I don't need it. Take care."  
  
"Thank you." Mr. Kim pockets the payment, shooting a stern look at Seven from over his glasses. "Don't throw things when you get angry from now on."  
  
The landlord turns to leave, and Seven moves to see the man out. "Young people these days," you hear Mr. Kim mutter as he passes you.  
  
Once Mr. Kim has gone and Seven has turned to face you, you feel safe enough to ask the question that's been bothering you since the landlord's arrival. "How do you think your brother broke through the glass?"  
  
"I don't know. You'd probably know better since you were there. I don't want to think about it. I'm sorry, but please don't mention my brother right now. My brain will explode if I think about that, too."  
  
Poor Seven... He has seemed so dejected since his arrival the previous day. He will not talk to you. He will not even look at you. He only remains huddled in the corner with his laptop, headphones on. He was awake when you went to bed, and awake when you woke earlier that morning. His hair is disheveled, as though he has run his fingers through it many times, and he has dark circles under his eyes.  
  
"One more thing," Seven continues. "Can you really stay that calm? You've been chatting me up since yesterday. You're really strange. Aren't you scared that there's a bomb here?"  
  
His question takes you aback for a moment, and you pause thoughtfully before answering. "Not really. I'm not scared at all with you here!"  
  
Seven's brows draw together fiercely upon hearing your answer. Obviously, it's not what he wanted to hear. "It's nice to see you be positive, but you should always be careful," he lectures, sticking his hands deeply into the pockets of his hoodie. "It's good that you're not anxious, but please be more aware of the situation. Aren't you supposed to get angry at me? I'm the one who put you in danger. I'm so angry at myself... Why aren't you mad at me?"  
  
You blink at his admission, studying his features carefully. His shoulders are hunched and his eyes are haunted behind the anger burning there, appearing as though he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. _Which he is,_ you remind yourself.  
  
He has the agency that he is employed by out looking for him for leaving his work unfinished. His own twin brother is involved in a nefarious organization looking to steal Rika's Fundraising Association's information, originally leading you to the apartment to try and do their dirty work for them. Besides this, Seven has to stay with you to protect you from said twin brother, because nobody else in the organization knows the location of the apartment. You cannot even begin to imagine the enormous amounts of stress that Seven is currently bearing on his own. In fact, if the roles were reversed and you were in his position, you would currently be in that corner playing with your lips and waiting to be carted off to the loony bin. You cannot possibly lay anger and blame on his doorstep, not when he is doing so much to make things right.  
  
"If it weren't for you, I would have been kidnapped yesterday. I might even be dead right now. But thanks to you, I'm fine," you answer simply.  
  
"That's not important," Seven protests irritably, color rising in his cheeks. "Your life was at risk as a result. I wish none of this ever happened. That bomb, and you joining the organization..." He sighs, his voice filled with bitter regret. "Don't ever download weird apps on your phone! Oh... Well, that's none of my business. I'm just going to do what I can now. So you do what you can, too. Just stay still and safe. I'm going to put on my headphones and work now, so don't bother me."  
  
"Seven, why the headphones? Are you avoiding me?"  
  
Seven stares at you blankly for a moment, but the next second he brushes past you, headphones over his ears, and settles in front of the computer.  
  
You sigh as the tears begin to well up in your eyes. You will _not_ cry. Moodily, you sit on the bed behind him, picking up the book you had abandoned the night before. Occasionally, you send murderous glances at Seven's back, who is oblivious as he mutters softly to himself. "Requesting to satellite. Code is G2X0. Coordinates are... 16.29562. Possible satellites... Germany, France. Analyzing header information. Decoding hash code. Altering visual information..."


	5. Tracked

You're standing in the lobby of the hotel, staring blankly at the elevator's glowing button. The thrill of having Seven share the apartment with you has long since banked into a disappointed smolder. You had hoped to spend some time getting to know him better personally, but he has thwarted your efforts at every turn. Is there no way to get close to him?  
  
When your phone vibrates in your pocket, you absently pull it out to check the Caller ID, expecting your mother or another of the members of the RFA. It's with no small amount of surprise that, instead, you see Seven's current profile image displayed on the screen. You have half a mind to ignore the call. After all, you're almost home, but something draws you to answer.  
  
No sooner has the phone speaker reached your ear than you hear Seven's worried voice. "Where are you? Where did you go on your own? You were so quiet I thought you were asleep. I had to check the security feed on the hallway to see that you left. That was seven minutes ago. I didn't realize that you'd left for seven minutes. What if something happened in that time?"  
  
An eyelid twitches in irritation and your head throbs. You've spent the morning trying to make conversation with the irritable guy, and he never so much as acknowledged that you were there. But disappear for _seven minutes_ to run to the convenience store across the street...  
  
Your eyes close as you pray to God above for patience. After regaining your composure, you respond, "You didn't answer me... And you seemed really focused..."  
  
"If you felt that frustrated staying inside, you should have just taken off my headphones and _made_ me listen to you... Are you mad that I was ignoring you?" At least he admits it. "You do realize how dangerous the situation is right now, right? How could you leave on your own even when you know a hacker is after this place? Some strange person could have been waiting outside to kidnap you. Where are you?"  
  
"I'm waiting for the elevator downstairs. It's taking a while."  
  
"I should have put a GPS tracking device on your clothes," Seven says absently. There is the unmistakable sound of rummaging. "Oh... I brought a couple here. Give me your jacket when you get back so that I can attach it. Why in the world did you leave?"  
  
"I wanted to get your attention," you answer unashamedly. Being holed up in a studio apartment with a moody male makes the living space entirely too small. There's nowhere you can go - except to lock yourself in the bathroom - to get away for some alone time. A quick walk to the convenience store and back for a small snack had seemed the perfect idea to get away.  
  
"Attention...? From me? God... Don't be such a child. I'm tired..." You can just imagine Seven rubbing his face in exhaustion, and you feel a quick pang of guilt at the image. If your gut feeling is correct, he barely slept at all last night. The last thing he needs is to worry about where you've disappeared to.  
  
 _It's not my fault he didn't listen when I told him I'm leaving,_ you silently defend yourself.  
  
"Hurry back inside," Seven instructs. "If you are hungry, there's a sandwich inside the fridge so go eat that. I made it so I can't vouch for the taste, but it will fill you up."  
  
The pang returns in full measure, along with an inner warmth that spreads through you to your toes. "You made it for me?"  
  
"No, I made it when I was making my own. I didn't have time to care about the taste so it looks sloppy. There's tuna, ham, and egg, so pick what you want. We have orange, grape, and grapefruit juice. That was all I could do in seven minutes. I really..." Seven's voice trails off awkwardly, suddenly realizing what he's saying. "I really just wanted to eat all three types of sandwiches, so don't take it the wrong way."  
  
Little does he know that by adding the last phrase, there's no other way but to take his thoughtfulness except _the wrong way._ He must have made all three types, unsure of what you like but trying to cover all his bases. A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips in spite of yourself.  
  
"Oh, I just heard the elevator. You're on it right? I'll be waiting in front of the door. I can't focus until I see you... Hurry."  
  
Without even a goodbye, Seven hangs up the line. You replace the phone in your pocket, enjoying the feeling that his worry for you gives. It all but disappears as, when you step off the elevator, you see the irritable Seven himself standing in front of the door to Rika's apartment, his arms folded across his chest. In spite of yourself, you feel your heart jump and your stomach drop. "There you are," he says in lieu of a greeting.  
  
As you near him, he opens the door for you, following you inside. "Give me your jacket," he instructs, holding his hand out.  
  
You stare at him blankly for a moment; you thought he had been bluffing about the tracking device. "You're not serious?"  
  
"Dead serious. Jacket. Now."  
  
When you don't give him the jacket, Seven snaps his fingers, continuing to hold his palm out, patiently waiting as though he has all the time in the world. Sighing in defeat, you slip out of the jacket and hand it over to him.


	6. Seven Zero Seven, Savior from Cockroaches!

Your wide eyes stare fearfully at the ground, watching for the slightest movement. There’s a bug down there, you just know it; you’d seen the movement from the corner of your eye. Unable to bear the anxiety any longer, you stiffly reach for your phone and automatically dial Seven’s number.

“Again?” he answers irritably. “You don’t give up do you?”

“Then don’t pick up,” you shoot back.

“I didn’t want to,” he returns. “Damn it. Next time I won’t. I’ll turn back first and if I can’t see you, then I’ll pick up. So tell me. What’s going on? The system looks fine...” Seven closes out of one program to open another, his eyes scanning the long list of green characters.

Just then, the hideous creature you had been hunting rears its ugly head and shoots out from under the bed that you were sitting on. “Oh my gosh! Cockroach!!” you scream into the receiver of the phone.

“Cockroach?” It takes a moment for your words to register. “Pesticide! Don’t you have any pesticide?”

You shake your head mutely, unable to speak for fear, standing on the bed. V had forbidden that any cabinets and drawers be opened, so of course you have no clue what the apartment is stocked with. Indeed, you don’t even know how long everything has been sitting there for, or whether it’s still good.

Cautiously lifting your foot to step down and look, Seven interrupts. “No, I’ll go! How the hell did it come in…? I’ll spray enough pesticide for it to die so don’t worry.” His voice is calm and soothing, quite at odds with your own panic. “Just wait a bit.”

Since he is the one who obviously set up the special security system in the apartment – he’s said so himself – he is quick to locate the pesticide under the un-alarmed kitchen cabinet beneath the sink. He sprays the insecticide on the cockroach with one han, while his other hand keeps the phone glued to his ear just in case it has friends.

Once the bug stop moving, Seven sighs, relieved. “Whew… Alright… Everything’s good.” He stiffens as the sounds of sniffling comes over the receiver. Alarmed, he turns back to look at you. “Huh? You-you’re crying? Why?!”

“I wanted to tell you before, but I didn’t want to bother you,” you admit tearfully. One minute Seven, Defender of Justice, is slaying cockroaches or playfully chasing you down the hall, growling like a dog, just like the Seven you know from the chatroom. The next moment he’s cold and aloof, demanding that you not bother him, unresponsive when you check to see how he is, rejecting you when you try to come close. The pent up, turbulent emotions finally burst under the stress of one small cockroach.

He sighs as he realizes what you’re saying without actually having to come out and say it. “I’m not mad at you or anything. I’m just busy working. So if you want to say something, say it. Gosh… Don’t cry. What should I do…?” The last sentence is said more to himself as he mutters under his breath. How does one calm a crying female? His experience with people is limited at best, usually extended to Mary Vanderwood the Third, and she’s not prone to tears. “I’ll go look at every corner in this house. Stop crying.”

You shake your head, shooting his suggestion down. His presence is more reassuring than anything else, and you know that he will do all in his power to protect you from any foe, insect or human. “Just stay with me.”

Seven’s eyebrows draw together in a deep frown. His goal is obviously to stay as emotionally unavailable from you as he possibly can, but how is he to get you to stop crying without doing what you say? He sighs once more, his resolve weakening in the wake of your tears. “Alright. I’ll stay. Bu-but just turn your back on me,” he demands, unnerved as you obviously try to make your way to join him. “Sit with your back turned, okay?”

Seven moves his bag away from his back, clearing the space for you to sit directly behind him. “Here, sit here. It’s weird to be on the phone when we’re this close. I’ll hang up now.”

He disconnects the phone lines as you sit down behind him, pressing your back against his, reassured from the warmth radiating from him. “Thank you for saving me, Seven,” you say, thinking of his brother as well as the cockroach.

“Don’t mention it,” he responds absently, typing away on the keyboard.


	7. Secrets

"Alpha, Alpha... Found it. Coordinates 125-659... Mark Red. Blue is 160-659. South... Approximately three meters... This means the lan passes through here, and the device's parameter is around 160 degrees... The coordinates of the blind spot are," Seven continues to mutter to himself.  
  
You stare at him once more from behind the covers of your book, brows drawn together in concern. The red-haired boy hasn't moved from his spot since Mr. Kim had come and gone earlier in the day. Seven hasn't eaten a thing, hasn't drunk much, nor has he moved to go to the bathroom. "Seven, are you really okay not eating anything?"  
  
The only answer he gives you is a click of the mouse. "Oh, this is a song I like," he says, beginning to hum the tune of the song, oblivious to your presence. "...Towards the north door... Target... Coordinate 263-572... Current time, recorded. Mark, 7 o'clock. Thermal detector... Parameter calculation..."  
  
Sighing, your gaze drops to the floor, landing upon the duffel bag that Seven brought with him. Sitting on top of his clothes is a child's book. With a furtive glance, you reach your hand into the bag and withdraw the book.  
  
"Blue... Seven in total..."  
  
You open the covers of the book and flip through the pages. Inside is the fairy tale of a wizard able to grant one's most desperate wishes, but with terrible consequences that follow. In the end, the wizard gives up his power to be with the one that he loves. It's a story that you know well. As you near the back of the book, the pages fall open to reveal a floppy disk inside.  
  
"Red... Coordinate 172-384... Mark."  
  
"Huh? What's this...? A floppy disk?" you ask to nobody in particular. Why in the world would Seven have a floppy disk hidden away in the back of a book? Most computers no longer carry a floppy disk port in them any longer, having replaced them with CD-ROMs a long time ago.  
  
Seven, having been absorbed in his work the majority of the day, finally turns to check on where you are. His eyes widen in shock, then his brows snap together in anger. With lightning agility, he is up off the floor behind you, snatching the book out of your hands none too gently. "What are you doing right now? God, I don't know if you're just lighthearted or dumb."  
  
You merely stare at him, struck speechless. Seven's hurt your feelings before; he's rejected your affection; he's even ignored you. But he's never been in such a towering rage before.  
  
"Please listen carefully to what I have to say. Do you know the saying curiosity kills the cat?"  
  
You nod mutely, like a cobra being lured by the snake charmer's flute.  
  
"You don't have to be polite to me. You can ignore me, avoid me, even get mad at me. But don't _ever_ get curious about what I do or the things I've brought. People who get curious without knowing anything, just thinking it'll be alright, really make me tired. They don't know how dangerous I am and how many problems I have. They just look at me and think I won't be much, and approach me. They try to open up around me without much thought. Just. Like. You. But they don't even have the ability to handle the things inside."  
  
Seven whirls away from you, his expression thunderous, to replace the book inside his bag. He kicks it closer to his agency's hacking equipment that he set up in the corner.  
  
"I just want to get close to you. Is that so wrong?" you question desperately.  
  
"That's strange. I don't want to get close to you at all, but why do you think so? I've already told you. We can't be family or friends. I don't care whatever happens, just as long as you are safe, normal, and alive. You must already know this. No matter how much you try to get to know me, it's useless. The ending is already set for us. So, please, until the situation is stabilized, don't give me any attention and _don't_ forgive me for putting you in danger."  
  
Stung, you return Seven's steady stare. His stance is rigid and his golden eyes molten. Even so, there's a desperation underlying the anger, almost as though he is practically begging you to let him be. "You're not even giving me a chance to become close to you? I'm hurt..."  
  
Seven sighs and his shoulders slump in defeat. "That chance... Don't waste something like that on a guy like me. I'll take it that you understand what I mean now. If you really care for me and want to help, don't pay me any attention and just stay far away from me. _That_ is helping me. Seriously."  
  
Determined that this is the end of the conversation, Seven all but plops onto the floor beside his bag, slipping the headphones over his ears once more.


	8. Addiction

You could not bear to be in the same room as Seven any longer. Not after the argument you had. In fact, you were close to tears, and there was no way that you would allow him to see you cry. Even if it were the last thing that you would do, you would not allow him to witness your defeat.  
  
Instead, you lock yourself in the only other room that you can be alone in: the bathroom. With the shower on you are finally able to release the tension by having a good cry. The sound of your sobbing is drowned out by the running water.  
  
Sitting on the toilet, your chin in your palm, you glance at the time on your phone, sniffling. It's been at least an hour, and Seven hasn't even tried to check to see how you are after the argument. But did you expect him to? Though you know he never would, you still hate yourself for even wanting him to.  
  
Though every fiber of your being is telling you to let him go, that he has made his feelings more than clear, you're drawn to him. He's a drug, and you're the dying addict that is desperate for one more hit, fatal though it can prove to be. Without even knowing what you're going to say, only wanting to hear the sound of his breath on the other line of the phone, your fingers dial his number.  
  
The phone rings once, twice, three times before he picks up. "Hello...?" he asks hesitantly.  
  
"Hello..." you answer in return.  
  
"Don't... Don't say anything. I have something to tell you. I think I overreacted earlier. All I want is to spend my day peacefully without any troubles. That's so hard. I feel like I've become so sensitive. And I'm taking all my anxiety out on you. It's my feelings. I'm the one who's feeling it but I can't control it, and that's so hard. I'm sorry... if I hurt your feelings in any way."  
  
What can you say but to accept the apology and move on? "It's fine."  
  
Seven is not good with people. Even the other members of the RFA have said so, but even he can tell that his apology simply isn't enough. "You know those stickleback fish that only hurt each other by getting closer?"  
  
"Yeah," you answer, already sensing where the conversation is headed. You have the urge to hang the phone up, but something keeps you on the line.  
  
"I'm just like that. You shouldn't try to get closer to me. Because... I was born like a stickleback. I'm someone who hurts people who come closer to me. So keep your distance."  
  
"But-"  
  
"No, don't interrupt me and listen. Please deal with your useless feelings towards me. I'm not a good man. Good people like you shouldn't be with me. I'm sorry I have to say this. You deserve someone better."  
  
What did you expect by calling him? The tears begin to well up again as a fresh wave of pain washes over you, threatening to drown you. Though you try your best to stop the sob rising in your throat, one escapes. You press your hand against your mouth to hold the rest back.  
  
Hearing you cry bothers Seven. You can hear it in his voice as he attempts to comfort you in the only way that he can. "Don't be sad. Even that is a waste. It's enough that you are alive and well..."  
  
The tears you have been holding in become more difficult to choke back. A small gasp escapes from behind your hand.  
  
Seven sighs, and there is deep pain in his voice when he next speaks. "I need to hang up."  
  
The line goes dead. Your phone drops to the bathroom floor with a clatter and you retreat into yourself on the toilet seat. You bury your face in your knees as you struggle to regain your composure.


	9. Betrayal

The conversation Seven and V had did not go well. When questioned about Seven’s brother, V all but disappeared. Although it cannot be proven, there is a suspicion deep inside that V was not unavailable because of bad reception, but because he simply does not wish to discuss Saeran.  
  
Concern for how Seven is dealing with the blow that he has faced is what finally draws you from the bathroom-turned-sanctuary. You sit on the bed behind him, watching him, yearning to reach out and comfort him but not quite sure how. He has done his best from the moment he arrived to push you away. He has made his feelings – or lack thereof – regarding you loud and clear.  
  
But it’s difficult to see someone hurting so much and not being able to do a thing about it.  
  
Suddenly, you hear a tiny voice sounding from the bag in the same corner that Seven is sitting in. “God Seven, God Seven! I sense you are depressed meow. “ A small, white, robotic cat peeks its head out from the bag and clambers over toward its owner, looking up at him expectantly. “I automatically turn on when I sense that you are depressed meow. The source of God Seven's depression is bad service meow. I analyzed meow.”  
  
“Shut up.” Although Seven’s voice is quiet, you can hear the deep pain of betrayal.  
  
“Cheer up meow! Me, Meowy, does not lose service, meow!”  
  
“Be quiet... How did I turn this off? Damn...” Seven fumbles around with the bottom of the cat, searching for the off switch.  
  
“Need explaining meow!” it pipes from his grip.  
  
Giving up, Seven sets the robot down on the floor forcefully. “I said shut up!”  
  
“Meowy wants to hear master meow~ “  
  
“That robot... You made it then.” In spite of the situation, you cannot help but be impressed by Seven’s genius. What kind of person can build a robot from scratch, and then install artificial intelligence?  
  
“Don't worry about it,” Seven shoots at you. Then, looking at the kitten, he says, “Hey, robot cat, go away. I don't want to talk to you so just go to a corner.”  
  
“I can't leave once I sense depression meow! Cheer up meow!”  
  
Although you are not sure how you can help, you chime into the argument Seven is having with his own creation. “Meowy, let's stay quiet for now.”  
  
“That's a voice I have to absolutely obey meow... This is how I'm programmed so my system will shut down now...! Shhhhh....” Unexpectedly, the robot cat prances into the corner and powers down, its glowing blue eyes growing dark.  
  
“Whew... Finally, it's quiet.” Seven’s shoulders slump as he hunches over his laptop, but he’s not typing.  
  
Taking the comment as an invitation, you ask, “Things didn't seem to go well with V... Are you okay?”  
  
Seven sighs. “I know it's funny to say all this after I told you to stop paying attention to me, but whatever happens... don't trust what V says. I'm not joking. God... I think you shouldn't be more involved with RFA. He told me not to open the drawer because there's something in there. An alarm will ring if someone like you opens the drawers or one of the cabinets. But I can control all the alarms, so if I want to, I can see everything. I'm sure he logged in because he heard that I'm here and got nervous about something.”  
  
“Why don't you open the drawers?” you suggest nonchalantly.  
  
“I will some day... but not right now. I'm sure that there's something that an RFA member should never see... Now that my trust in V is shattered, I can barely keep sane at the moment.”  
  
Your brows draw together in concern. Tentatively, you reach out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but at the last moment, you draw back. Your place your hands in your lap instead, clasping them together. “Seven... is there really nothing I can do to help?”  
  
The secret agent turns to you, his piercing gold eyes studying you, puzzled. “God... It's nothing. I made you worry again. I don't know what I'm blabbering right now... I feel like I should shut down instead of that cat.”  
  
He sighs and pushes his horn-rimmed glasses to the top of his head to rub his face, obviously frustrated and exhausted. “Anyways, don't worry about that drawer. I'll take care of it.”  
  
“I can't help but think that there's something in there about Saeran.”  
  
“You're free to think what you want, but don't care about me. And don't even mention that name. From now on, I think you should forget everything related to RFA. Forget about the party. You'll only be in danger by staying in some place like this. As soon as the hacker issue is solved, please leave.”  
  
This gets your attention. You sit up straighter, your body rigid and defensive. Although you are in danger because of the RFA, they’re not the ones that lead you to the apartment. Jumin, Jaehee, Yoosung, Zen, and Seven (until recently) have been kind, thoughtful, and even helpful. You have only known them for a week, but they have quickly become part of your day to day life. They’re a second family. Even the thought of leaving a group of people you’ve come to care for hurts. “Why are you deciding my future?”  
  
“I'm telling you this because I know much more than you do.”  
  
He’s patronizing you now, you can see it written in the unhappy lines of his face.  
  
“You are free to do whatever you want, but my thoughts will not change. Even if you try to get involved with me, I will refuse everything. This is nothing for a person like you to be involved in. You'll only end up getting hurt. Let's just stop talking about this. From now on, if I have to tell you anything concerning your safety, I'll do it through the messenger... so just know it as that. I'm going to go work. Don't bother me.”  
  
Seven turns away once more, his hands on his headphones. Although he is obviously finished with you and the conversation, you are far from over. Unresolved arguments are something that nags, and this one is too serious to let go. “You're being too one sided. Then what do I do about my feelings you?”  
  
Seven’s feet slam down onto the wooden floor as he shoots up to stand, his hands balled into fists at his side. For the first time since you have met him, he actually reaches his breaking point. “I TOLD YOU NOT TO BOTHER ME! I don't care about your feelings, alright!? Think about the fact that you're living with a bomb right now. You're already in danger, because of me and the RFA! There's no guarantee that something more dangerous won't happen in the future! And your chances of being in danger will multiply by being with a guy like me. Do you understand!? It's not the time to go on about emotions. Just worry about staying alive! How can you stay so calm!? I can't understand! If you get in danger again...! Then I'll...!”  
  
His anger is quickly spent, and his he suddenly falters into silence. Just the thought of you becoming hurt, being put in danger because of him, is more than he can bear. It torments him so much that he cannot even finish the sentence. His golden eyes widen as he realizes that he’s said too much.  
  
“Seven, I know that you're worried about me... So don't avoid me, please?” Your voice is soft and pleading, almost begging him not to push you away. More than anything, you want to be there for him, to be loved by him.  
  
Rather than accepting your affection, he laughs you off. “You're free to think whatever you want, but seriously... stop it. After you're safe and the hacker thing gets solved, we'll never see each other again. So stop wasting your emotions on me. I don't deserve it. It's all a waste.”  
  
It’s the same excuse, over and over. Unable to control your emotions, tears gather in the corners of your eyes once more. You stare at him, wounded and speechless.  
  
Seven’s brows draw together in a deep frown as he stares back. “Damn. Don't look at me like that! God! This won't do. I'm going out to the hallway... I'm going to come in when you're sleeping, so meanwhile, sort out your emotions.”  
  
He leaves you sitting on the bed, slamming the door behind him as he goes. The room suddenly feels too big and empty without him there. You collapse back onto the bed, burying your face in the pillow, and begin to sob in earnest.


End file.
